Well it's official. As of today, I've kept this blog alive for two whole years now. What kind of metal do I get? None? I'll take it.
What's especially nice about an auspicious occasion such as this one is that I can finally stop caring. Doesn't that always happen after the second anniversary? No? Well don't tell that to my pet goldfish. Just kidding, you can't. They're dead.
Well, I guess I can always just feign interest in this for a few more years. And at the blog follower rate I'm going, one up since last year(!), that will put me thiiiis close to taking over the blog world. If such a thing actually exists. Just call me Pinky--Moses is clearly my Brain counterpart.
Speech speech speech speech!
Oh, I guess that's to me.
Well, I like this blog. I guess that sort of goes without saying since I'm still doing it, but I like that it's small and somewhat obscure. Because that's how I like to think of myself. Because I like to think of myself as Jane Eyre. Doesn't everyone? Oh, they like to think of themselves as fun attractive people? Rats, wrong again.
I don't mind that I don't have stalkers (much) or random blog trolls that leave comments accusing me of being a grade A hipster douche bag. And I like that all of my friends and family members are the ones reading this, because--news flash--they're my audience. They are who I care about. I like that they get to read all my musings and quandaries and laugh at my neuroses. Laugh with me? (She says hopefully.) Nope, don't kid yourself, Kozak.
There is something very cathartic about all of this, something I haven't really felt to such a degree since I was writing all the time and keeping a journal. It's nice to have the validating "likes" on Facebook or my mom emailing me and telling me that she liked my most recent post but that's not what all this is about. Except that it is, so keep it is coming...
It's just nice to have a space to collect and shape my thoughts and share my adventures, however small and seemingly insignificant, especially since I am slightly withholding about doing that in person. I guess this is the one place that I allow myself to be a bit of exhibitionist; I would be mortified if I ever was like that in real life. I even sometimes cringe when I picture big life events in the future (like the ones I was talking about in yesterday's post), because then everyone would looking at me and that will be sooooo weiiiiird. I mean, I feel embarrassed when people sing happy birthday to me.
Maybe it comes from being in a big family. My youngest brother Isaiah was born when I was eighteen, probably one of the more selfish times in a young gal's life. I was happy for him to the have the attention over me (still am). I was happy for people to fuss over Isaiah, instead of fussing over me for graduating high school and going to college. I was happy to hold him and play with him over going out every night of that summer and getting drunk off Smirnoff ice with my friends. Not that Goody Two Shoes Kozak would normally do that anyways...
I don't really have a list of lessons learned like I did last year and I think I've hit my (and my readership's) limit for introspective tangents. Soooo...I will leave you here.
Thanks for reading these two years. I vow to continue to be a sassmouth bass (trademarked by Moses) until I die.
Oh and a happy early Father's Day to my dad, Deacon George. As I am sure you all know, he is the absolute best father and I owe him a lot of my cleverness as well as my vast knowledge of comic books and theology that I often get to lord over other people.
In honor of my father, I am going to go see a movie tonight about his favorite super hero: the Man of Steel. Also, I really just want to see it.
So a happy Father's Day to my dad--I love you--and to the equally sassy and loveable Dan Wilks and a happy birthday to this little old blog that could.